


punch drunk

by thunderylee



Category: KAT-TUN (Band), NewS (Band)
Genre: Canon Universe, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-03-11
Updated: 2009-03-11
Packaged: 2019-02-01 21:25:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12713268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderylee/pseuds/thunderylee
Summary: Ueda is curious to see how Yamapi’s boxing is going.





	punch drunk

**Author's Note:**

> reposted from agck.

He doesn’t remember Kame being this shiny.

Maybe it’s the lighting, the equipment, even Yamapi’s perseverance that makes him sweat more. Or maybe the NewS leader just shines more. Ueda has accepted more outrageous things in his lifetime.

There are a thousand differences between Kame and Yamapi, but Ueda doesn’t really care to compare them. The most obvious difference at this moment is that Yamapi’s form kind of sucks, which makes Ueda feel _obligated_ to help him as a senpai in this department.

It takes three times of clearing his throat for Yamapi to notice him, the younger presumably lost in his own world as he throws weak punches at the punching bag. Ueda’s biceps hurt just watching him; if Yamapi keeps on like this, he’s going to be in some serious pain.

“Who’s there?” Yamapi says through squinted eyes; he must not have his contacts in. “This is a private gym.”

“I am well aware of that,” Ueda says evenly, projecting his voice across the room. “I have a key just like you do.”

“Ueda-kun.” It’s a knowing tone, almost like Yamapi expected him to show up sooner or later. “Did you want to use the boxing equipment? I’ll only be a little while longer.”

“Why can’t we share?” Ueda asks with a smirk that he knows Yamapi can’t see, grateful for his foresight to wear boxing shorts under his pants. “You get the best practice in the ring, you know.”

Yamapi clears his throat uncomfortably, his eyes staring off to the side like he’s completely blind. “I’m still new at this,” he says reluctantly.

As he approaches the ring, Ueda pulls his shirt over his head and tears his pants away while Yamapi blinks obliviously. “How bad is your vision?”

Yamapi laughs. “I can’t really see anything without my contacts. I don’t like to practice with them in because the sweat gets into my eyes and stings them.”

“It’s also good for your perception,” Ueda tells him, speaking through gritted teeth as he bites down the string to lace up his gloves. “You should sense what your opponent will do instead of watching for it.”

Nodding, Yamapi feels around until he finds the ropes and ducks between them. He jogs a little and takes a stance that has Ueda wanting to burst out into laughter, but Jin would never forgive him if he upset his best friend.

“Okay, wait,” he says instead, keeping his amusement under control as he presses his gloves together to push them all the way on his hands. “Let’s start with the basics, all right?”

Yamapi stands straight and dips his head a little. “Please guide me well, senpai!”

Something inside Ueda twitches at being addressed that way, coupled with the sweat on Yamapi’s back and the damp curls of his hair as Ueda moves behind him. “You’re using your arms too much in your punches,” he says gently. “You need to step forward with your whole body or you’re going to throw out your shoulder.”

“Oh, okay.” Yamapi nearly falls over when he tries it, but Ueda grabs him around the waist at the last second. “Like that?”

“Sort of.” Leaving one hand on Yamapi’s waist, the other slides up to his right shoulder blade. “I’m going to push you into it so you can feel what you’re supposed to do, okay?”

“Okay,” Yamapi replies, completely unnerved at the closeness.

Ueda lets out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding as he presses himself flush against Yamapi’s back, feeling the muscles working against his chest as he goes through the motions of throwing a proper punch without actually doing so.

“Oh, I see,” Yamapi says slowly. “It’s really helpful to show me like that. It’s hard to gauge how it’s supposed to be done just by watching.”

“Yeah,” Ueda agrees, swallowing forcibly. “Do you think you got it? Or shall we do it again?”

“Again,” Yamapi answers immediately. “I mean, if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all.”

It’s almost embarrassing the way Ueda’s body reacts to the motions, mostly the sharp jab of the actual punch. It kind of feels like Yamapi’s punching him with the way his coherency is dwindling, his focus shifting to the potent smell of Yamapi’s shampoo mixed with his sweat, the way his skin feels under Ueda’s fingers as he maneuvers him to his will.

“Ueda?” Yamapi’s quiet voice breaks through his thoughts. “Is this better?”

Ueda remains still as Yamapi performs the action on his own, and it saddens Ueda to nod. “Yeah, I think you’ve got it.” At once he pulls away, feeling like he’s peeling himself from Yamapi, and jogs around the ring throwing his own practice punches to get over the reluctance.

He rolls his head around, loosening up his neck muscles because it’s been a long time since he’s done this with another person. Not since Kame. “Shall we spar then?” he asks, ignoring the wavering in his voice. “I’ll go easy on you.”

Yamapi laughs, a foreign sound that has Ueda glancing up to meet Yamapi’s unseeing eyes. “Yeah, sure.”

As the trainer, Ueda stands before him and blocks his punches; they’re amateur ones that he could block in his sleep, but he can tell that Yamapi is trying. He’s narrowed his brow in concentration, putting his entire weight into the punches and Ueda feels proud at Yamapi’s quick learning.

He’s figured out how to utilize his muscle and Ueda misjudges exactly how much he has, leading him to be knocked backwards by the force of Yamapi’s blows. He tries to catch himself and misses, grabbing onto Yamapi’s arms in a failed attempt to stay upright.

Yamapi crashes down with him, their combined weight bouncing off of the floor as Yamapi tries not to land completely on top of him. As it is Ueda has the wind knocked out of him, forcing his eyes open to see Yamapi right in his face, squinting in concern.

“I’m fine,” Ueda assures him. “I just underestimated your strength.”

Yamapi grins happily and starts to push up, but he does so by rocking back on Ueda’s lap and Ueda’s reaction stops him dead in his tracks. Ueda’s eyes go wide, feeling like a deer in headlights as Yamapi slowly turns back towards him and offers an incredulous expression. “Ueda?”

“I…” Ueda starts, unsure how to proceed. This hasn’t happened to him before, not like this. Boxing and sex don’t usually go together, at least not until now.

“I can’t see your face,” Yamapi says in a voice that’s more depth than anything else. “I don’t want to force you.”

_Like you could force me_ is on the tip of Ueda’s tongue, but then Yamapi rolls his hips and his words come out in a shameful moan. He feels Yamapi harden against him and knows that practice is over, at least officially. “It’s okay,” he finally whispers, defeated.

That seems to be all Yamapi needed to hear to switch gears, leaning down to press their mouths together and making a frustrated noise when he can’t maneuver his gloves off.

Ueda smiles against his lips and rests his gloved hands on Yamapi’s hips. “We don’t need those,” he says, pointedly rocking up to rub against Yamapi through the thin material of their shorts.

Yamapi groans in response, kissing Ueda fiercely enough to have the latter pulling him close, spreading his legs for Yamapi to fit between and move directly against him. He gasps when Yamapi does exactly that, their kisses becoming sloppy as Ueda becomes more concerned about the friction below the belt. Finally Yamapi tears his mouth away and presses his lips to Ueda’s neck, making the latter stretch his head back, letting out another moan that has Yamapi thrusting faster.

“ _Fuck_ , I lied,” Ueda hisses irritably, bringing an arm up to tug at the laces of his glove with his teeth until they loosen. He slams his hand on the floor until the glove slips off and immediately his hand is between them, pushing down the fronts of their shorts until he has fingers around them both, unable to hold them steady but it’s enough to serve the purpose.

Yamapi cries out first and comes on Ueda’s hand, his teeth on Ueda’s collarbone making Ueda arch and follow right after. Yamapi stills and collapses on top of him, and Ueda can’t even bring himself to mind as his orgasm curls his toes and takes over his senses.

Yamapi’s grinning stupidly when he finally pushes up, just enough to roll over onto his back and tackle his own gloves. “Ueda-kun is really passionate about boxing,” he says with a chuckle.

Ueda snorts noncommittally, trying to ignore how Yamapi shines even brighter now.


End file.
